


Fair and Glittering

by tinknevertalks



Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: 1900s, Edwardian Period, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-21 20:43:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12465588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinknevertalks/pseuds/tinknevertalks
Summary: To satisfy his curiosity, Nikola visits Helen in London, for conversation and confirmations of a few inconsistencies.





	Fair and Glittering

**Author's Note:**

> DownToTheSea has arranged a wonderful, eight day extravaganza on Tumblr called Teslen Appreciation Week. Me, liking to read and write Teslen fic, jumped straight on board. Day One: Historic Teslen. Enjoy!
> 
> Also, a massive thank you to Rinari7, for making my mess of words understandable. She's blooming brilliant. :)

The year was 1906. King Edward the VII reigned, Henry Campbell-Bannerman was the elected Prime Minister, and Nikola Tesla had business to attend to in London. He had received a curious letter from Helen over a week ago, although on the face of it it was a perfectly normal missive. Something irked him. She mentioned one of her colleagues making lamb broth for St David’s Day. _“I will admit it was an interesting meal, much less fuss than what Cook usually makes, although…”_ she’d written. Except Nikola remembered that day in March. A day full of Helen, adventuring, and _exploring_ in Vienna.

“Helen, tell your minion that I do not want to wait in the drawing room.” His voice reverberated as he strode through to her office, making the young man who tried to deny him access wince. Was that expression happiness, or abject frustration at his intrusion, on her face? The glitter in her eyes suggested the former, cheering Nikola immensely.

“Hello, Nikola,” she greeted from her desk chair, the sunlight glinting on her blonde _(blonde?)_ hair.

“Come now, Helen, is that any way to greet an old friend?” he asked, coming to a stop behind a chair opposite her own, voice purposefully a beguiling murmur.

Her eyebrows shot up. “When that friend is you? A thousand times yes.” She waved away Minion, who closed the door behind him, leaving them in blessed peace.

Nikola pouted. “You’re not still angry after that last debacle?”

“You released a thirty-foot electric eel into the Thames!”

He shrugged, before making himself comfortable in the chair he’d been standing behind. “I put her back in her cage…”

“After James shot you,” she reminded him, eyes wide with faux ire, a smile tugging at her lips.

“Ah yes, how is dear, _darling_ James?” He grinned, sitting back and crossing his legs at the knee.

Helen eyed him suspiciously, although the ghost of a smile remained. “He’s well. He’s on his way to Toulon.” She tilted her head and he knew she was trying to decipher him. “What do you want, Nikola?” 

He smirked, before his expression softened. “I thought I would come visit. Your last letter sounded…” He twirled his hand in the air as he tried to explain his visit.

“What?” Helen asked.

“Lonely.”

He almost laughed when her mouth worked silently, looking for the words. “I… I’m not lonely. There are plenty of people here around me.”  
Snorting, he arced tiny sprites of electricity between his fingers, a trick he knew Helen enjoyed watching. “That’s why you’re hiding in your office? No, don’t say it. You’re working.”

“I am!” she told him, wide eyed. “See? I have many reports I have to write, and more to read besides.” Her hand gestured to the paper on the desk, which had absolutely nothing on it. Arching his eyebrow, she finally relented under his disbelieving gaze. “Well… Maybe I am avoiding things…” She smiled, a light flush gracing her cheeks.

“I say we go out,” he proclaimed lavishly as he all but sprung out of his chair.

“What?” she laughed.

“Let me take you to dinner, then the opera…” He had a flash of inspiration. “Wait, the new theatre in Bishopsgate opened recently.”

Helen’s face brightened. “The electric theatre?” Her smile was widening by the second, making Nikola’s widen too. “I’d like that. The idea of moving pictures is still astounding!”

“Wonderful. I shall be here to escort you at six.” He winked. Leaning over the desk, he murmured silkily, “And Helen, you look utterly ravishing today.”

Gentle laughter followed him out the door.

\--

Dinner was wonderful. Nikola, ever the gentleman, had been as charming as always. He was recounting his travels to Italy and Austria when Helen saw it.

“Nikola, are you blushing?” Her tone was incredulous; he always seemed so unflappable.

“No,” he replied, not looking at her, his cheeks definitely pinker.

“Oh Nikola!” She smiled, her eyes bright. “You are! Who was she?”

His eyes shot up to hers, confusion meeting genuine curiosity. Putting down his glass, and shaking his head, he replied, “I certainly met… someone.” His smile was small, soft, and captivated Helen. She hadn’t seen him like this for the longest time - unguarded, almost open, even - or that inquisitive glint in his eye, as if he was watching an experiment. He rested a finger against his cheek, before gesticulating as he said, “She was a fellow scientist. Not up to my standard, of course—“

“Of course,” Helen echoed, laughing gently as she rolled her eyes at his egotism. He might act like he was the most intelligent person in the room, but he wouldn’t have bothered with this mystery woman if she hadn’t been up to snuff.

“But… Intriguing.” He chuckled introspectively. “I must say, Vienna always has and will be an interesting place for me.”

She sighed dreamily, “Oh, I’ve always wanted to visit Vienna.”

“In springtime?” he asked, leaning forward.

Her smile muted slightly with her confusion and wonder. “How did you know?”

He shrugged. “Psychic.”

“Nikola!” she admonished playfully, laughing. “Well?”

“Well what?” he asked, smirking.

She rolled her eyes. “What was her name?”

“Bancroft,” he replied, looking away sadly.

Helen blinked a few times, trying to understand his reticence. “Ban—I meant her Christian name,” she huffed genially, before sipping her dwindling glass of wine.

“Helen.”

“Yes?” She blinked when he raised his eyebrow and looked her dead in the eye. “Helen?” He nodded. “As in Helen Bancroft?” He nodded again as she crossed her arms. “You’re kidding!”

Sighing, playing with the stem of his glass, he finally said, “Ok, I admit it. I spent the entire spring exploring Vienna, you and –“  
Helen held up her hand, stopping his rush of words. She smiled. “I’m sorry Nikola, I shouldn’t have pried. If you don’t want to tell me her name, I understand.”

Sipping his wine quietly, Helen didn’t notice that Nikola’s smile stopped reaching his eyes.

\--

He watched her watch the screen with rapt attention. Her eyes drank in each frame, the lights flashing on her face and hair.  
“Imagine when they make colour recordings! Or find a way to incorporate sound!” she gushed as they walked to their carriage.  
He only smiled as he revelled in her joy, her eyes shining with excitement. Her smile was brighter than the lights around her and Nikola thought he could see the woman who spent the spring with him in Austria.

This Helen, surely? Something wasn’t adding up, but...

“You’ve really not been to Vienna?” he asked, as if to confirm her story, as he entered the carriage.

She shook her head. “Never.” Holding his gaze, she added, “Why would I say I’d want to visit if I had already done so?” She smiled gently.

Nikola nodded, curiosity barely abated, but instinct telling him that he’d get no answers from her. 

This wasn’t Helen Bancroft, a dark haired siren, but Helen Magnus, fair and glittering. If it took a lifetime, he’d figure it out.

\--

“Who chooses the wine in this place?” he groused as he sat. They were in Helen’s office again, sitting by the fire in her tall, wing-back chairs.

“You’re more than welcome not to drink it,” she said, smiling sweetly.

“Have I told you how utterly divine you look tonight?” He leant forward, his manner lascivious.

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” she told him, leaning forward herself.

“Who says I want to get somewhere?”

Rolling her eyes, smiling, she sat back in her chair. “I wouldn’t mind if you were…”

His look was shrewd, until his lips quirked devilishly. Finishing his wine, he watched her as a hunter watches his prey. The firelight accentuated the red of her lips, made her blue eyes deeper, the shadow of her décolletage darker.

Standing, holding out her hand to him, she asked, “Shall we?”

Pushing her hand out of the way, he stood and wrapped an arm around her waist. His lips descended on hers - confident, knowing, just as she remembered from those heady days directly after the injection of source blood. He threaded his fingers through her hair, holding her in place as he plundered her mouth. Pushing her body tight against his, she kissed back with as much fervour.

Separating, their lips barely millimetres apart, they panted in time to their thundering heartbeats. Grinning, Helen grabbed the hand around her waist. Bestowing a swift kiss to his lips, meant to tease, she squeezed his fingers. “Come on, I know the perfect place.”

\--

He stayed for a month. Between her caring for the abnormals in the Sanctuary during the day and her evenings (and more than a few afternoons) in bed with Nikola, she didn’t notice the passage of time. One morning she awoke to a small bouquet of flowers on her pillow, rather than his charming smile, and she knew she’d be breakfasting alone.


End file.
